


Don't Fight It, and Try To Move On

by AutumnMelon



Series: Wow, another Tommy-centric fic :0 [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adopted Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Baby Ranboo, Character Devolpment, Dead Wilbur Soot, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Farmer Tommyinnit, Gen, Ghost Wilbur Soot, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, I'm Bad At Tagging, Many early features are forgotten later on hahahahah, Platonic Relationships, Protective TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Recovery, Set in Tommy's exile, TommyInnit Angst (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Video Game Mechanics, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, brief descriptions of gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutumnMelon/pseuds/AutumnMelon
Summary: After Dream blows up everything in Logstead, Tommy decides to run away. He comes across a village and heals from his wounds during his time in L'manberg and exile. He also adopts an abandoned child :)I promise, it's a bit better than the summary makes it out to be-Title from 'Since I saw Vienna' by Wilbur Soot
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & TommyInnit, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dream SMP Ensemble & TommyInnit, Implied Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Ranboo & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Series: Wow, another Tommy-centric fic :0 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197617
Comments: 11
Kudos: 564
Collections: Completed stories I've read, Purrsonal Picks





	Don't Fight It, and Try To Move On

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [to be a wanderer, wandering](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28410378) by [ghostbandaids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostbandaids/pseuds/ghostbandaids). 



> This took me like two months, how?? ALSO my writing style pretty much just switches half way through, don't mind that, hahahaa

Tommy's exile was not fun. 

Why was he even here? Under Dreams watch and in a constant repeat of getting his hopes up only for them to be knocked down again. He wasn't going to be un-banished anytime soon, so why wait? Dream always tore his happiness away, and after blowing up what he and Ghostbur built he felt he had enough. 

He went up and up, on top of the pillar he built of dirt. High above the ground. With the wind in his hair and the moon in his vision, he thought back. 

Every memory he had with Dream in the past weeks were... not great. The bastard blew up his things, criticized him but then said they were friends. (Maybe they were, Dream was the only one who showed up to his party, let him play with a trident, talked to him; gave him company.) And if he told the truth in saying no one else cared for him, then, why should it matter if he stayed? 

With a newfound determination swirling in his guts, he fell back down, letting the wind rush in his ears. He landed safely in water and quickly packed his bags—which was not much. Wrapping Wilbur's old coat close to him—this is the one think Dream always let him keep, since it was full of holes anyway—to protect him from the cold and set foot, either west or east, maybe even north or south, he didn't know. 

But what he did know, was that he had to get away. As far as he legs could carry him. He left the ruins once called Logsterdshire, the pole casting over the crater that now made up the estate he- they made. 

He set out over the ocean with a boat, later coming across unfamiliar forests, and traveling through the overgrowth and heavy trees. He found villages in hopes he was far enough, before seeing his own older brother on a wanted poster and continuing the journey. 

(He didn't like to mention the way he would stare at the needle of his compass, watching it point from where he came from, shakily. The way he ran his thumb over the cracks in the glass and the dents in the metal. The stared over the engravement; Your Tubbo.) 

It was tiring, and cold. 

His brothers coat could only do so much. It gathered more holes and rips, but he refused to let it go. Call him stubborn, but it was the last thing of his brother. Although eventually, he knew he had to get more dressed for the weather, the temperature was decreasing. 

He almost wanted to give up, let himself finally get some rest. But he reminded himself that, that is what Dream would want. He wanted to move on, he needed to move on. 

He stumbled across a village far out, near a beach shore. He walked through town, getting weird looks from people he passed by, though he ignored them. His blonde hair was getting longer, now growing past his ears, and it was dirty, matted and caked with grime and dirt. Tommy's signature white and red tee was greyer and browner, dirtied, and torn up. And his shoes were scoffed, the soles ripping off slowly. It was okay, not great, but he had to just let them stare and move on. 

He almost went into a bakery, the warm, inviting inside reminding him of Niki. He missed her and the days they'd spend time together along with everyone in L'manberg. 

Though, he walked past, only here for the trade of clothes. 

The bell rang through the small shop as he opened the door. The shop owners gaze turned to the boy in an instant and Tommy felt himself shrink as they looked him up and down. It was a woman who seemed to be in their late-thirties, chestnut brown, frizzled hair that curled around her shoulders and tired hazel eyes with slight bags sunken underneath. She greeted him with a tight smile. 

The blonde nodded to her, walking up to the counter slightly dreading the up-coming conversation. "Um-" Tommy cleared his throat, he hadn't noticed how scratchy it was before, probably from lack of usage. "Do you have any coats?" The woman gave a nod, muttering a few words he didn't understand before walking to the back rooms. When she came back, she held a heavier coat than Wilbur's, it was a dark grey and, from what he could tell, would drape down to his knees. 

She placed it on the counter in silence before asking, "Do you anything for payment?" Her voice was clearly full of exhaustion and it was harsh English, it confirmed his suspicions of them not speaking his language. 

Then it dawned on Tommy, that he didn't have much. He brought up his inventory, scanning through, nothing besides broken tools, food, and other essentials he needed. 

He worried on his bottom lip between his teeth, "I have some iron..." The blonde muttered, "Would that work?" 

The shopkeeper gave an unimpressed look and with an even harsher tone, spoke a clear, "No," Tommy couldn't suppress the flinch of his hands that inched for him to get away in that second, the woman must've notice since her face shown a look of regret and murmured an apology. 

He quickly left the shop, but he could not leave town. Not yet. 

Night was quickly approaching, and Tommy was battling a mental war. In his hands held the disc, Chirp. The disc he was given by Badboyhalo during his exile. It was the only disc he brought with him, physically. 

_Clara,_ he called out _, what should I do?_

Discs were rare, and in his hands, he held the real Chirp, with this he could certainly buy what he needed. 

But he didn't want to trade it, his discs were precious to him, and he'd never be able to get this one back. His grip tightened around the vinyl record. 

He couldn't even listen to it anymore, he needed a jukebox, and he didn't have one. He didn't even an enderchest. He had brought it because it reminded him of the dream of independence, and Tubbo by his side. Even if the music disc wasn't listened to by Tubbo nor was it at the start of it all, it still gave him the memories of each other disc. 

Though, it hurt to hold, Clara gave him strength, but he couldn't rely on her forever. 

_Move on,_ he reminded himself, closing his eyes. 

Move on. He had to move on. Clara would want him to let go of the past. 

He made his way back to the shop, disc in hand. 

Upon handing the disc over, the woman's eyes widened. "Wow," She took Chirp into her hands, tracing the edges. Her face looked like she had just found something better than diamonds, and Tommy guessed she was right. (He looked like that when he got them-) She looked back up at the blonde, "You can buy more than just the coat with this, anything you want." 

Tommy left the shop with new clothes, a heavier coat, and an acoustic guitar. Wilbur's coat now laying in his inventory. 

___________________ 

He was now in creditably thankful that he made the choice of trading the disc, and while he cannot say he doesn't regret it, he's glad he did it. 

_(No, he's not- yes, he is.)_

He hadn't expected a snowy tundra so close to a beach village, yet here it was. 

The snowy plains seemed to go on forever, the freezing air cutting into his skin as he wrapped his new coat closer. The woman gave him the black coat along a blue sweater and deep brown pants, even some boots. It was defiantly better than what he was wearing before, and as much as he hates to think about it, he would've frozen to death. 

Tommy doesn't really know why he had gotten the guitar; he could've gone without it. But upon seeing it on the selves he hadn't bother checking before, he knew he had to have it. 

Maybe it was because Wilbur used to play for him when they were younger, or maybe since he no longer had any source of music to listen too. He decided not to dwell on it too much, favoring in stuffing it into the corner of his inventory. 

The tundra was a hassle to get past, the unfamiliar land not only was Barren, but unexplored too. He came across no villages, only the few bunnies that hopped by, who he, unfortunately, had to kill for food each time. 

He would settle down in caves when he became too exhausted to move and would pass out next to a furnace, he set a lit a-flame. Then wake up on the cold stone and himself shivering with a now-cold furnace. The black coat was a bit big for him, but he was glad it was. It gave him more warmth for his hands with the long sleeves and it was easier to bundle closer in. But even then, it wasn't fully enough to stop the trembles caused by the cold. 

Although Tommy grew up in a snowy biome with Wilbur and the rest of his family, he soon became more accustomed to the heat. 

Battling the mobs that spawned hard, his limbs stiff and aching with each swing of his iron sword. Stray's shot arrows at him, which he could barely dodge, and he'd later have to wrap up his wounds painfully, praying they do not get infected. But, for the first time in a while, some luck was on his side, and no blizzards or storms pasted through. 

And after days of trekking, he saw a different biome over the horizon. 

____________________ 

A Taiga biome was surrounding him. Spruce trees, foxes, berry bushes and, occasionally, a wolf pack. 

Tommy traveled through the dark leaves and stepped across broken, mossy stone. The weather was better, warmer, only the breeze to disturb it and make him shiver. He hoped to Prime a village was near, he had to be far enough, he's traveled tens of thousands of blocks. And in the last town he did not see any posters from what he saw. 

Crouching down to get some berries out of a bush, making sure to stay clear of the thorns, he heard something to the side. A rattle of bones. Quick to clear the berries into his inventory, he pulled out his sword, getting into a defensive stance. 

Sure enough, a skeleton stood a few feet away, bow drawn, and an arrow notched. 

Tommy tried to rush a run to the side, but the arrow flew through the air, hitting him on the side of his thigh. The boy hissed in pain and stumbled forward, raising his sword, and bringing it down on the monster. The skeleton fell back, its fragile bones cracking and becoming unstable. The blonde swung once more and it evaporated into particles, leaving a few bones behind. 

Tommy swayed, exhaustion becoming unignorably painful with the over excursion. Blood seeped from his new open wound, ruining his clothes all over again. They already had a few tears and rips. 

He put a hand up to a tree in hopes to steady himself, it did, but his mind was still racing. Blood rushing out and lack of sleep making black shapes appear in his vision. The hand on the tree gripped the bark, it was rough, and scratched his skin, but it was what he needed to ground himself. 

His haze he didn't notice someone coming up to him until that someone spoke. But still, Tommy wasn't able to make out the words, he turned and through his blacked-out vision, he caught a glance of something blue before it all went dark. 

When Tommy awoke, it was to light shining over his face. It was warm, in fact, warmer than usual. He felt nothing but warmth and comfort, the ground he laid on was cushiony, and the layers over him were soft. 

_Huh..._

In a now panicked state, Tommy shot up, greeted by a room he was unfamiliar with. He was laying on a bed that had white covers, book shelfs were in the corner, with a table covered in ingredients for potion-making. A basin of water also lay on the ground near him. 

Where was he? His mind raced with endless thought _, had someone helped him? Was he back there? Was that mysterious blue figure good or bad?_

He was brought back from his thoughts as the door creaked open. He turned with a look of confusion and anxiousness. The room didn't give him a real reason to worry, it looked like an infirmary. But he couldn't let his guard down, even if he wanted to have a fresh start, he couldn't help but be wary. 

Soon, as the door opened, his gaze landed upon a woman. She had black hair that cut off at her shoulders, curling up into a bouncy mess, two black, round ears twitched on top of her head and black markings were around her contrasting light grey eyes. She looked to be around twenty (20) to twenty-two (22). 

Must be a panda hybrid, that would explain the appearance. 

And that blur of blue he saw before he passed out must've been her jumper, which was a light aqua more than a blue. It fit loosely around her torso, she also wore black jeans and heeled boots. A necklace hung around her neck and the pendent rested on her bosom, it looked to be red, maybe redstone ore. Iron wire wrapped around it to keep it in place. 

The woman greeted Tommy with a smile and spoke something in a soft language, must be her native tongue. Great, more hard communication. 

An awkward silence came after since Tommy did not respond, he didn't know how to respond. The smile faded from her face turning into a small look of concern. She seemed nice, friendly, at least. The blonde broke his gaze, looking to the side a bit. "I, um," He started, "I don't know what you're saying." His look wondered the floor, it looked to be a nice, polished stone of sort. He curled in on himself a bit, before stopping as to feeling something wet. Looking down, he was met with a white rag, he must have thrown it off his head as he woke up. 

The lady made a sound, comprehending the situation. Then spoke in English, "I am sorry," Her voice was still soft but took on a rougher tone in trying to speak the younger's language. Tommy looked back up at her--but he did not make eye contact, instead looking at her pendent--as she said, assumingly repeating her question from earlier. "Are you feeling okay?" 

A snarky reply landed on the tip of tongue before it died just as quickly. He shouldn't be mean; she could easily give him back to- to him. He thought carefully before speaking slowly, "I'm okay," He meant that to her, but it was like he was trying to convince himself 

He would be okay, right? He was far, so much so people were speaking languages he did not know existed. 

The lady ended up telling him a bit about herself as she checked over his bandages and brought him food. 

Her name was Ophelia, and she was twenty-three (23), studying medicine in her free time away from working at the town's tavern. A schedule of 3:00PM to 11:30PM, if he heard correctly. She also taught him some words in her language, so he could communicate easier. She was a gentle woman, selfless and brave, Tommy could not help but admire her skills. 

(She didn't question why he flinched so much or why someone his age had so many scars. Instead, she told him what she was doing with each movement, being sure to be gentle around sensitive areas. It did not make him feel babied; it made him feel safe.) 

Ophelia offered for him to use her bath, to which he begrudgingly accepted, he was not so used to people being nice to him. Being submerged in the warm water made him feel refreshed and clean for the first time in weeks. After, he quickly changed into some spare clothes she had given him, a black long-sleeve, and jeans, and met her down the stairs in the kitchen. 

“Are there any empty houses I could rent?" Tommy asked as she gave him another health potion. Although he insisted, he was fine, the woman would not let up, so he eventually gave in to taking what she gave him. Ophelia processed what was said to her before nodding, "There's an old farmhouse on the outskirts of town, the man who lived there left a few years ago. It's been untouched since." 

Tommy pocketed the red bottled up liquid into his inventory before smiling at the female panda hybrid and saying, "Perfect," 

____________________ 

Okay, so maybe not _super_ perfect. 

The farmhouse was nice, big, with several types of wood and stone making it up. The fields behind it were a decent size too, and Tommy was suddenly glad Techno had taught him how to farm. But it was disgusting. Dust layered everything and dirt was left kicked up in each room, she was not lying when she said it had not been touched. 

It was not perfect, but good enough. Better than before. 

The boy got quick to work, cleaning up the house with old brooms and rags, getting rid of the grime and bugs that roamed the floorboards. He went to a nearby river for water to help clean, washing up the countertops and old furniture. 

Ophelia also came by before her shift at the tavern, giving him clean bed sheets and blankets and such for settling in. 

(He put his compass on a support beam across the ceiling, letting it collect dust there. He hoped he would not have to touch it soon.) 

The next day came and pasted just as quick, he cleaned more and started getting supplies for farming in the field. Ophelia came by again, offering if he wanted to get lunch at a café nearby, he accepted the offer as soon as the words left her mouth. He ate like he had not eaten in days, which in all honestly, was true. But the woman just joked about it and did not ask questions. Tommy liked the woman; she was sisterly even. He felt safe with Ophelia, safer than he had in a while. 

And over the course of the next few weeks, Tommy got settled in nicely, although he had a few thoughts about leaving and continuing further, he decided not to. He started planting potatoes (guilty as charged) and was learning the guitar by himself (Wilbur defiantly gave him a head-start by teaching him a few cords when he was younger.) Ophelia would come over with lunch sometimes, listen to him play to see his progress, and teach him the villages' language. It was comforting, and Tommy found himself looking forward to these visits. (He pushed himself to forget Dreams visits. Ophelia would never do that to him... right?) 

On this day, it would mark when he first arrived at the town, two month ago. And Ophelia offered for him to play the guitar at the tavern while she worked, to gain some money. Tommy found the offer strange, as he was not exactly good at playing. (But when he mentioned this, the woman responded by talking his ear off about how good he was. And how no one else played on the village.) 

So, Tommy found himself sitting on a stool, guitar in arms, his friend behind the counter next to him. He was wearing Wilbur coat for the first time in weeks, he had put it in a chest to be forgotten (He could never forget what happened-) but he felt it needed to wear it today. To give himself strength, he proposed. 

And, it worked, people liked his music. He learned how to play Mellohi, Cat, Blocks, Far; each disc he knew, he learned on the guitar. (He would never fully let go of his discs.) People even tipped him, awaited his arrival, and soon, the tavern became more popular. He felt bad at first because that meant more work for Ophelia. but she waved him off saying she enjoyed the fresh faces. 

Tommy realized he did too. 

In the mornings he would wake up, make himself breakfast, and tended to his potatoes. He will never fully grasp the concept of why Techno has an obsession of the plant-based food, but the blonde had to admit, it was nice being a farmer. And he could defiantly get behind the fact that it was pleasant thing to do. 

He had an iron hoe--that Tommy would never admit to having--that he would plie the ground with and repeat the process of pulling out potatoes and re-planting them. 

Eventually, he got the courage to get cows and a few chickens. He had been afraid of having any because before, if he had any 'pets', they would die by the hands of a person. But he pushed that behind him, naming all his animals and taking diligent care of them. 

Life was getting better. 

____________________ 

Years pasted, and Tommy grew older, putting his past further behind him. 

He found the village at the age of seventeen (17)—his birthday being on the road and him not even realizing it—he was now turning twenty-one (21) with a life of farming, selling his crops, and playing music in the tavern. He made a name for himself in the town, always saying hello to people passing by and smiling to the kids that played on the street. 

The memories back there never faded, but he was now able to push them away. 

He also learned the language they spoke, the soft words flowed of his tongue easily, as if he were destined to speak it. But that was cheesy, so he pushed that thought away. 

Tommy put his guitar down after he finished his last song for the night, the tip jar full and his fingers aching from pulling strings. He sighed, smiling as he ran a hand through his hair. It was longer now, reaching his shoulders and curling up there, but he did not mind to much, he enjoyed the change. 

His guitar was now full of little stickers the kids put there when he performed down at the town square (which he did occasionally since some people were not able to go into the tavern), seeing children run over and put a funny sticker in the weirdest place always made him laugh. 

"Great job today, Toms." 

The blonde looked over, and behind the counter stood Ophelia, leaning over the marble, a smile on her face. Her black hair has grown longer over the years, the no-longer-short-hair now pulled into a loose bun on top of her head. There was more marking on her face now too, she said that she used to hide most of them but one day she decided to just not to do it anymore. 

Her uniform consisted of a plain black tee and jeans, the apron covered his flour and alcohol-- due to her mess-ups with making beverages. 

"I always do a great job," Tommy smiled wide, his voice was prideful, but not arrogantly so. Ophelia gave a snort, standing back up straight, and gave an attempt to dust off her apron but only succeeding in filling the air with flour. "Yeah, you do," She said before scrunching up her nose and sneezing. The blond-haired boy just laughed at her, the latter joining in soon after. 

He bid his friend goodnight, gathered his things, and left the tavern, ready to turn in for the night. The path to his farmhouse was quiet, save for the rust of trees and his shoes kicking up rocks. 

The soft light from the lanterns inside, gave light to the outside darkness. The taps his boots gave against his porch echoed out into the forest to be swallowed up, but it never made him feel eerie, it gave a sense of comfort, knowing he was home. 

Opening the door, he was welcomed by the warmth of the house. Taking off his shoes, he left his guitar in his place on its mantle, banked his tips, and lit the fireplace. The ignited fire burned bright, crackling, and popping with each waver of flame. 

(He didn't like to stare to long, it reminded him of his exile, and those thoughts he had. It used to be so enticing and warm, but now it just burned.) 

He turned away and quickly pulled out a few potatoes from a barrel, popping it in the furnace to cook while getting ready for bed. After, he ate his dinner then flopped into bed, a day's worth of exhaustion catching up to him. Pulling the covers up, his head rested on the soft pillow before sleep pulled away at his consciousness. 

Tommy kept his footsteps quiet as he walked through the hall, feeling up the wall to maneuver better. The sword was heavy in his hands; he kept one by his bed, force of habit. 

A noise had awoken him, small, but audible enough to wake him. He thought maybe it was the wind or a mob and tried to go back to sleep. But a shiver crept up his spine and he could not ignore it. 

It was probably going to be nothing, and he was just wasting his time, but he felt the need to check just in case. There were no reported thefts in the town in years, but even if there was why would they steal from here? It was a farmhouse, and no matter how much Tommy loved it and thought it was cool, nothing of real value would be here. 

When he reached his little living room, the fire now ash as he put it out before bed, he saw a shadow through the window. Fuck, he thought, never did he think he would have visitors. 

He gripped the sword a little tighter and made his way slowly to his door. Some barrels were outside, a few stray potatoes from the days harvest, that was probably what he heard. Maybe some mob stumbled over it. 

But then, as his vision flickered from lassitude, he heard a small gurgling sound. He knew that noise, it was not a common sound, but not a rare one either; the call of an endermen. Although, it sounded a bit different than normal, he brushed it aside. 

Tommy opened the door slowly, it luckily not creaking; but that thought was pushed away once he saw what- or rather, who was there. 

It was a boy, young, but certainly not under ten (10) years old. They blended in with the nighttime darkness, barely visible without the porch light that had just turned on automatically... speaking of which, the light scared the kid. 

They practically jumped out of their skin, a sound coming from their throat. An endermen sound. Ah, the kid was a hybrid. Makes sense. 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Tommy tried, as the kid scrambled back, their duel-toned eyes trained on him in fear. Tommy slowly placed down his sword on the ground, his hands up showing he was unarmed, and kicked the stone weapon away. The noise made the boy finch but not run. 

The hybrid held a potato in their hands and that made Tommy realize they wanted food. The kids' figure was like his back in exile. 

Tommy put his hands and was careful to keep them in view, but they still backed away. “Calm down, I won’t hurt you. Promise,” He spoke lowly, his voice still rough with sleep although he was wide awake. 

The kid's eyes glanced back at the sword for a moment, the stone abandoned on the ground away from them, before looking at the blonde. 

“You want me to cook that for you?” He gestured towards the boy’s hands. 

They hesitated before nodding slightly, if Tommy hadn’t been looking at him, he would have missed it. “You wanna come inside? It’s pretty cold out here.” Another nod. 

Tommy opened the door wider, backing up into the house to try to make sure the kid felt safe. He understood how it felt to be scared and being too close to them would make them freak out. He turned around and went to the kitchen, the sun hasn’t risen yet, but who says no to an early breakfast. Or would it be a late dinner? 

Throwing some potatoes—potatoes are more of a dinner food, aren’t they? --in the furnace, he both heard and felt the door close. The frigid wind left the house and the recognizable noise of the hinges of the door moving. 

He didn’t acknowledge it, choosing to drum his fingers against his leg as he waited. 

Once the furnaces’ light cooled down, Tommy grabbed the few potatoes he threw in before turning around. He was greeted by the kid just standing awkwardly in the front room, only a few feet from the door. 

Tommy just smiled at the boy, handing him a baked potato before backing away a step to give them space. 

He watched as the kid eyed the food in his frail hands before he exerted his eyes and took a bite of his potato. He knew that that the kid watched him do that because a few moments later, the hybrid was eating as well. 

Just two boys eating potatoes while standing in the living room. It was odd but comforting to Tommy. 

____________________ 

Ranboo, was the kid’s name. He was a half endermen and half unknown hybrid, who had been living on his own after his parents abandoned him for his traits—at least that’s what Ranboo thinks what happened, his memory isn’t that good. Ranboo was also eight (8), not ten (10), just very, very tall. 

It had taken time and many trials and errors, but after a few months—four to be exact—Tommy was able to speak—as best as he could—to Ranboo and walk up to him and touch him without the kid flinching harshly away. While he was still scared of sharp objects and water, it was progress, of course it all wouldn’t be fine overnight. 

Tommy taught him more English—as well as the native language—since Ranboo’s speech was filled with warped sounds and bubbles coming up from his throat. 

They’d grow closer, and Tommy liked to think of the boy as a younger brother—of sorts. 

Ranboo was a secret from the town, it wasn’t that they weren’t uncomfortable with hybrids (obviously), but Tommy did not want the kid to get overwhelmed. Although Ophelia has met him, since Ranboo isn’t super comfortable with her, she doesn’t come over as often as before. 

Today was just a chill day, Tommy didn’t need to go into work, and he’d sold most of the potatoes the day before, they were just sitting—not close, close but close enough to touch each other if set out to—on the couch. Tommy read a book—something he found out he liked doing if it was the right setting—while Ranboo sat with his legs up to his chest, reading the memory book he started recently. 

(Tommy wished a disc was playing to fill the silence—not that it was uncomfortable, he just that he needed something to focus on.) 

Ranboo shifted, green and red eyes narrowing in on a specific page. “T-Tommy?” He asked quietly, not taking his eyes off the page. The blonde looked up, “Whatcha’ need?” 

“I can’t remember what this means,” 

“What does it say?” 

The two-toned boy lifted his book for Tommy to see then says, “Dream,” 

Dream. 

Right there in pencil, graphite slightly smudged but still clear enough to read. Nothing else was on the page, just the name word. 

Tommy’s breathing hitched as he paused, armor in the hole Tommy. He wasn’t wearing any armor- Dream would get mad there’s nothing to blow up. 

He closed his own book roughly and buried his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He knew Ranboo flinched and had tears welling up in his eyes, but Tommy could bring himself to look up again. To scared of the outcome. 

Deep breaths. In and Out. In. Out. 

One final breath, Tommy spoke quietly, “M’sorry Ranboo, I promise I’m not upset with you.” He needed to reassure the kid more, his own problems had past—it'd been years, he should not be so upset about it still. 

He lifted his head to look at the hybrid (not in the eyes though, he quickly learned Ranboo didn’t like that.) He was trembling slightly, the book now thrown on the ground. “Did I do some-something wrong?” Ranboo asked, quietly. Tommy gave a reassuring smile, “No, you didn’t, it’s my fault.” 

The boy frowned, the tension rising off his shoulders. “Why’d you get like... that?” 

“It’s nothing,” 

Silence settled over the room and they looked away from each other. Ranboo stares at his memory book that lays on the wooden floor. “You said before it’s never nothing.” He whispered. 

That startled Tommy, and he looked up to see Ranboo still not looking back at him. He remembers when he had said that to Ranboo—and he’s surprised the kid remembers it too. 

_It was a warm night, the fireplace burning brightly and the wind outside nothing but a small breeze despite it being late. Tommy stood in the kitchen, baking some potatoes for dinner, like always. (“Again?” “It’s easy, okay!”)_

_Tommy hummed a song as he waited, a song he couldn’t remember the lyrics to, but still loved the beat. Ranboo sat on the couch, silent._

_“You okay, bud?” Tommy asked, looking back at the boy. “You’ve been awfully quiet today.”_

_Ranboo responded, “It’s nothing,” He looked down, avoiding eye contact—but that was normal._

_“Y’know, there’s always going to be something nagging at your mind.” He spoke, the potatoes forgotten temporarily as he walked over and sat down on the couch a few feet away. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, I’ll completely understand that._

_“But it’s never nothing,”_

Tommy chuckles light-heartedly, “I suppose you’re right, Ranboo.” He leaned back into the couch cushions. “I’m surprised you remember that ‘cuz I almost forgot about it.” 

Ranboo smiles, proud of himself as Tommy reaches over to put a hand on his spilt-toned hair, tousling it. They both smile wider without realizing it as the boy doesn’t flinch. 

Tommy pulls back and his smile faulters as he looks at the memory book. When and how did Ranboo know that, never mind write it. 

He sighed and looked to Ranboo who looked at him with concerned green and red eyes. “Well,” He started, unsure if he was ready to share this. “Let me tell you something of my past.” 

...When Ranboo looked to him with concern and worry, not pity, and when the young boy says, “Your so cool for getting through that.” He knew it’d be okay to tell this boy even his darkest secrets. Because even if the wording was a little off, they both knew what he meant, “I’m so proud of you that you had the strength to move on because look where it got you, you’re happy now.” And Tommy has to say that he is. 

He is happy now. 

____________________ 

It’s a day early in the fall, Ranboo was now ten (10), Tommy being twenty-three (23) when a wondering trader comes to town. Ranboo now felt comfortable to walk into town with him, but he was still quite shy—not that anyone minded though. 

“Ye might want to be prepared; a war is brewin’ over in the west.” The man spoke as Tommy looked over his ideas for sale. The west huh, Tommy pondered before trader continued, “It’s pretty far out though, so ye might not need to worry.” 

“Who’s starting up this war?” He asked, tugging on Ranboo’s sleeve to pull him closer when he gets distracted and starts to wonder off as Tommy talks to the merchant. “Oh, over with the Dream SMP, the Artic Empire, and New L’manberg--or what’s its name, that place has gone through some stuff within its time. It’s somethin’ ‘bout a kid who died few years ago. They’ve all been on bad terms since then but they’re finally goin’ through with it.” He spoke with a wave of hand. 

“But ye know, that place has always been big on wars so it might expand over here too. Better safe than sorry.” 

Tommy tightened his grip on Ranboo’s shirt subconsciously. “Y-yeah, definitely. Thanks for the information, Big Man.” “No problem, mate.” 

“Come on, Ran, let's get home, Ophelia is coming over for dinner.” The hybrid nodded and they hurried home. 

“Shit,” Tommy cursed as he held his head in his hands, he had sent Ranboo off to bed and now he was talking with Ophilia. Dinner cleaned up and plates thrown randomly into the sink or later. “They’re starting another fucking war.” He felt the back of his throat burn. 

Ophilia rubbed his shoulder, a worry line etched into her forehead as he continued, “And it’s about me, they think I've died.” His voice wavered, “Why should they even care, they didn’t then why now?” A tear slipped out and onto his fingers. 

“Oh, sweetie,” She pulled him into a hug, and Tommy pulled his hands away from his face to return it. 

He refused the tears, but they still poured out. 

After, when cries turned into sniffles then into nothing, Tommy pulled away. He wiped his tears with his hand and put on a determined face, “I think I should go back.” 

The panda hybrid gasps, “Are you sure? I thought you never wanted to go back?” 

Tommy nods, “I can’t not face my problems, and if I have to, I want to do it head on.” 

She gives a sad smile, “Okay, just be sure to come back. Are you taking Ranboo?” 

“Yeah, I don’t want to leave him behind. Besides, he might want to meet some of the others.” 

Ophilia puts a hand on his shoulder and nods before getting up. “I guess I’ll be going back huh?” Tommy stands up with her and hums, “We’ll get going in the morning, so I guess I won’t be seeing you until I get back.” 

“Yeah,” She says as she opens the door to the chilly air, but she turns back before she can step out. “You and Ranboo be safe, all right?” 

He smiles at her, “We will,” 

And with that they bid each other farewell. 

“Come on, bud.” Tommy says as he rubs Ranboo’s arm to wake him up. He tries not to be too rough in case he gets frightened. 

Ranboo groans, opening his eyes to the still-dark room. “Wha’,” He mumbles, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes. “You gotta get up, we’re going on a trip.” Tommy replies, walking over to the kid's closet to fetch out a backpack. 

He hears the movement of fabric and he can only assume that Ranboo has sat up. “Where?” He asks, his voice still laced with sleep. Tommy turns back to the boy, a dark blue backpack in his hands, and an unclear look on his face. “We’re going to the Dream SMP lands.” 

The hybrid looks up at him in sleep confusion, “Why?” 

At that Tommy just frowns at the boy and puts his bag on the bed, “Pack up, it’s going to be a long trip there. You can sleep on the way.” And he walks out in a slight run to get their essentials from around the house. 

Tommy grabbed a horse from the town's stables, since he didn’t have any himself, and sat Ranboo in front of him. The boy clings to his chest, sleep pulling him down again. Tommy smiles and puts the hood to Ranboo’s brown cloak over the black and white hair before he does the same to himself. It’s to protect them from the cold and to hide their identities. 

In his hand he holds the compass. One he hasn’t touched in six (6) years. It sat on that support beam, collecting dust, and Tommy sometimes wished it rotted away. Sure enough, it points west. 

He doesn’t want to go back. They never cared about him, he just another “hero” for them to cast aside. There was no reason for him to go back. Wilbur is dead and a ghost. Phil was always gone. Techno told him he was Theseus, and to die like a hero. And Tubbo had exiled him. Everyone else had their own fair and share where they betrayed or hurt him too. 

He takes a deep breath, then makes the horse get going. 

He doesn’t even know why he cares if they start another war. Maybe it’s because they think he’s dead, or maybe it's because he’s destined to die like a hero in battle. 

No, no- he, he wants to face his fears. Show them that he’s his own person, not a soldier, nor a child. He’s not going to battle, he has Ranboo with him. And he’s not going to leave the boy all alone at such an early age. 

Gripping the rains tighter in one hand, he holds onto Ranboo with the other. He’s going to show them how strong he is. 

The woods are easy to travel through, and they’re almost through them by nightfall. They stop and camp out for the night, Ranboo being restless in sitting still for so long, and if not for Tommy would’ve kept going. 

In the morning Tommy made sure Ranboo wore his warmest clothing because the snow tundra was coming up. 

The tundra was rough and unforgiving. Snow blew onto them, almost knocking them down. Tommy spotted a cave and decided to go there to wait out the storm. 

Ranboo shivered in his arms as the huddled in the cave. Not too deep into it but well enough to not be hit by the snow, but it was still cold. 

The horse lay beside them, a blanket atop him. His name was Sorin, a fully black horse that could run and jump very well. He did well in the tundra despite the low temperatures. 

Ranboo gripped his jacket tighter, mumbling, “’m cold,” Tommy held him closer with fervor, tucking his head under his chin. “I know, baby, it’ll pass soon.” He reassured, neither minding the nickname that slipped out. 

It only made sense that Ranboo was cold, he mentioned that he grew up in the nether for a few years. He wasn’t used to this kind of extreme weather. 

The hybrid spoke up again, “H-how much long’r, papa?” Now that one was startling. But Tommy didn’t mind it, his heart warmed despite the cold winds stabbing his skin. Maybe he did just pick up Phil's trait in adopting kids. 

“Just a bit longer, I promise.” 

____________________ 

The lands were different from before, but that was expected as it’s been six (6) years since Tommy’s seen the place. Obsidian walls were taller than ever before surrounding New L’manberg, and buildings seemed either burned or blow up. The sky that used to be a blue colour, was now grey from gunpowder and smoke. 

It was almost revolting how terrible this place looked and he considered just turning around to not look at the place. 

He slowed his horse to a stop and Ranboo kicked his legs from where he sat against Tommy, already restless to get off. “Hold on,” Tommy grunted as he got off the horse and pulled Ranboo down as well. He tied the horse to a nearby tree before grabbing Ranboo’s hand and walking down to the land. 

It was rather empty; no people busied the streets nor were there lights on in houses. Old festival decorations that Tommy remembers no longer there, instead just old wood that made up the small nation. 

The crater that lay under it, filled with water, was now dead of fish. He thought of Wilbur, and that stupid joke he made when Sally came up. It was a little ironic. 

He pushed down those thoughts. 

Ranboo practically radiated with emotions. He was excited, angry, then sad, then repeat. The boy was at the height of Tommy’s shoulder, already 5’9’’ at the age of ten (10). His stand-outish features hidden beneath the brown cloak he wore. Tommy didn’t want to get spotted too early, and especially when he isn’t quite ready yet. Also, he may have wanted a more dramatic reveal—but that’s not important. 

The meeting room, his mind thought of. 

He hadn’t seen it much, but when he was there, they talked about exiling him, and he pulled out Spirit. 

It was not pleasant to think about. 

They walked on the dead grass to get there, trying to be a bit sneaky even if no one was there. The black box had expanded, now wider and sturdier, it seems. Muffled yelling was heard from inside. 

Pulling his hood further down his head, Tommy gripped ~~the~~ _his_ kids hand, tightly. “Is that it?” Ranboo asked, he'd heard about the meeting room from stories. “Yeah, it is.” Tommy pulled them to start walking again, he didn't realize that had stopped. “Stay close to me, okay?” 

Ranboo hummed in acknowledgement. 

Tommy put his hand on the door handle, taking a deep breath before busting into the room. 

All shouting stopped, eyes on them, some in anger others in confusion or annoyance. 

He first noticed a few things. First, not everyone was here, so that must mean they were either dead or hiding for the time being. Or plain gone and left the country. Secondly, the Philza Minecraft himself stood with his hands slammed on the table, his face twisted in anger. He glared at Dream, who sat back in his chair casually. The mans signature mask had more cracks than Tommy remembered. Thirdly, Tubbo looked like shit. Eyes puffy and dark, worry lines imprinted on his forehead. 

“Who are you?” Dream spoke up after a few moments of deafening silence. The green-skinned man sat up more tense than before. Tommy had to suppress a flinch as he pushed Ranboo behind him protectively. “You should know me,” 

He knew Dream raised a brow from behind that stupid mask. 

Techno stood up from where he sat next to Phil, ready to draw his sword. His pink hair seemed a little shorter, but still quite long. The crown on his head, though, was more shiny. He also wore the old Antarctic Empire uniform, along with Phil. 

“Stand down Technoblade,” Dream called out, eyes trained on the mysterious people of barged in. “They're not a threat.” 

Techno countered, “Do you know them?” 

“No,” 

“Then how is that plausible?” 

Dream shrugged, “Just a hunch,” 

The piglin hybrid sat back down reluctantly, Phil joining him. 

Tommy's eyes wondered to Tubbo, the man looked worse for wear; terrible. The eye-bags were more prominent, standing out against his pale skin. But he wore a fur brown coat instead of his suit. The small horns that the young boy tried so hard to hide, were now to big for that. They were pointed straight though, nothing like Schlatt’s. 

Fundy and Jack sat beside him, and Tommy took notice that Quackity wasn't there, instead next to Techno in a blue uniform. 

Tommy reluctantly let go of Ranboo, stepping forward into the room. “I hear you're starting another war.” He didn't bother with changing his voice, it had already changed a bit since he left. It shouldn’t be recognizable. 

This time, Philza shouted. “Of course we are! He murdered my son!” 

_I thought you did that_ , Tommy thought but didn't speak. 

“Mm, any proof of that?” Tommy crossed his arms, ignoring the way that he knew Dream smiled. 

Phil gaped at him, “Are you taking his side? With that fucking monster!” 

“I’m not siding with him—” 

“Yeah right,” 

“I fucking hate the guy. I just want the full story.” 

Philza glared, “My son committed suicide because of him.” 

“Excuse me,” Fundy spoke up, clearly annoyed. “But are we just going to ignore that fact that we do not know this man?” In response, Dream looked up at Tommy and titled his head. “I know who it is,” Dream laughed as Tommy tensed. 

Fundy scoffed, “We don’t, though,” 

“Well,” Dream gave a pause, making sure they knew this was directed towards Tommy. “Would you like to? Or are you still too scared?” 

Tommy growled at the man, catching the eyes of everyone in the room. “Fuck you, bitch boy.” He reached up and ripped off his hood. 

He was certainly unrecognizable, bright cyan eyes with shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. Different to the dull eyes and short hair he had before. 

It seems Tubbo had made the connection first, curling in on himself and letting out a sob. Tommy felt the urge to go comfort him, but he pushed it away. Tubbo exiled him, and while Tommy forgave him, they don’t have the same bond anymore. 

“Glad to know you all think I'm dead.” 

And... that cause the room to erupt into chaos. Shocked gasps, cries and screams. 

Ranboo, poor kid, gripped onto Tommy’s cloak, scared of all the abrupt noises. Tommy wraps one arm around him and pulls him close as the others start to have questions. 

“Where have you been!” Said Fundy, sitting straight, one hand rubbed Tubbo’s back as he cried. 

Tommy shrugged, “Around,” 

“Why didn’t y-you come back?” Niki asked from the corner she sat in; her voice was still soft but rougher with the tears streaming down her face. 

The blonde gave a weak smile, “I couldn’t,” 

“Tommy...” Phil murmured, unable to believe this. 

“Phil,” His eyes drifted towards the two, “I’m not your son.” People looked confused, Phil and Techno both having different expressions. Distraught and relieved, respectively. 

“And I don’t forgive you two for... what you did. Nor trying to start another war here.” Tommy gestured towards the L’manberg residents. “I don’t think they can go through another. If you wanted revenge, you should’ve just declared war on Dream, not everyone.” 

‘Oh,” The man muttered as Techno looked down with his arms crossed. 

It was silent save for a few cries until Quackity stood up, his blue Artic uniform flowing as he walks forward. He holds a fist out towards Tommy, “Ey, man,” He laughed quietly. Tommy smiled, returning the fist-bump, “Hey, Big Q, nice outfit.” “Thanks, it’s good to see you.” 

Quackity had grown up a lot, but he still seemed to have that fun side of him. The gold ring on his hand showed that he’d also finally gotten married to those other two idiots. 

His brown eyes wondered to Tommy’s side, “Who's the other guy?” He asked, and Ranboo looked up, red and green eyes looking at the duck hybrid. 

Tommy smiled widely, “This is my son, Ranboo.” 

Other people gasped but Quackity just gave Ranboo his own fist-bump, chuckling. Tommy pulled down his son’s hood, revealing Ranboo’s full colour spectrum. 

Quackity back up as Tubbo walked over, his head down shamefully. “Tommy—” 

“I forgive you,” 

Tubbo tensed as more tears welled up, his already red face breaking into another ugly sob, “I’m sorry!” 

Tommy let go of Ranboo and went over to the older man, wrapping him in a hug. His shoulder quickly became wet as Tubbo grabbed at him tightly, in fear Tommy would disappear. 

He put his cheek on Tubbo’s brown hair, “Don’t be.” 

____________________ 

**Author's Note:**

> Damnnn, this is cringe lol. Ending sucks cuz it was rushed, i wanted this project off my table.


End file.
